


Happy Birthday

by JaneNightwork



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Don't copy to another site, Everyone's alive AU, F/F, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-15
Updated: 2019-03-15
Packaged: 2019-11-18 08:33:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18117146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JaneNightwork/pseuds/JaneNightwork
Summary: Mia turns five, and the Arrow family celebrates.





	Happy Birthday

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Hydra_bitch_please01](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hydra_bitch_please01/gifts).



> I'm an Arrow fanfiction writer now, apparently? This crazy-silly fic is for the amazing Hydra_bitch_please01's birthday. Happy Birthday, my friend!
> 
> FYI, I broke canon in the following ways:
> 
> \- Many, many people are magically back from the dead because I'm sentimental.
> 
> \- Baby Sara never became Baby John; she's still Sara.
> 
> \- Starling City is still called Starling City.
> 
> \- Several hours pass without gunfire. 
> 
> Enjoy!

It was Mia’s fifth birthday.

Moira, predictably, had pulled out all the stops and then some. The entire back lawn of the Queen Mansion had been decorated with bouncy castles, balloon arches, and every other thing that children dream of. John smiled to himself when he saw that there was even a small petting zoo off to one side.

“Oof,” Lyla said to him privately. “This is a little intimidating.”

“It wouldn’t be Moira if it wasn’t a little intimidating.”

The subject of their conversation caught sight of them, and walked over with a warm smile. John hadn’t expected Moira Queen to take to grandmother-hood as easily as she did, but then he’d learned over the years to never, ever underestimate her.

“Hi Gramma Moira,” saidSara, or SJ for Sara Junior as they now called her more often than not.

Moira hugged her, and said, “C’mon, let’s get you a party hat.”

“Uncle John! Uncle _John!_ ”

The force of nature that was a newly-minted five-year-old Mia Queen ran toward John with her arms open. John bent down, lifted her up, and spun her twice around.

“Hey doodle-bug! Happy birthday! Oh, you’re getting to be such a big strong girl, I can’t hold you up anymore.” John pretended to stagger under her weight, while Mia giggled and gripped his neck in a fierce hug.

“Uncle John, you’re silly! Hi Aunt Lyla! Kisses?”

Lyla smiled, and then leaned forward so Mia can give her her customary loud, smacking _mmmmmm-wah!_ kiss on the cheek.

“Hey birthday girl! I had a tough day today, can I have an extra kiss?” Lyla presented her other cheek, and Mia kissed her again.

“Better?”

“All better.”

“Gramma Moira got a _real pony_ for me to ride! Not to keep, it’s just for today, but I get to pet her and give her treats and ride her around a little. Sara can ride her too, I made sure.” Mia’s face scrunched into a little frown. “Do you guys want to ride her? We can ask Gramma Moira.”

After reassuring her that no, they did not want to ride the pony but that they would be sure to watch her when she did, they cut her loose among her friends. She took off like a shot toward the petting zoo.

John and Lyla joined the rest of the adults on the back patio. They were the last to arrive, owing to an unforeseen issue at A.R.G.U.S. earlier in the day. Thea, Roy, Sara, Nyssa, Laurel, Tommy, Quentin, and Donna were already lounging with Moira, Walter, Oliver, and Felicity on lawn chairs, drinks and crudités in hand.

They made their rounds giving out hugs and exchanging news.

“Did you get everything…settled?”Felicity asked Lyla under her breath as she passed her a glass of iced tea. Lyla nodded.

The day passed in lazy happiness. When it came time for Sara to ride the pony, William held the reins and guided the extremely gentle animal. Oliver had told him he didn’t have to, but William waved him off.

“You guard the city, I guard Mia. That’s nonnegotiable,” he’d said with a smile. Oliver held up his hands in surrender.

“You are your father’s son,” Moira said, pride in her voice. John privately thought that Moira could have known that even better, or at least sooner, if she hadn’t tried to send William and his mother away, but kept those thoughts to himself. They were for another, less happy day.

“Dad?” SJ walked up a little while later, holding Mia’s hand.

“Hey SJ, what’s up?”

SJ shifted from foot to foot. “Am I too big now for both of us to sack of potatoes?” she asked.

“Sack of Potatoes” was a nonsensical game he’d played with SJ when she was very small. He’d pick her up and put her over his shoulder, pretending he couldn’t see her. Then he’d run around the house “looking” for her, all the while complaining about the burden of carrying around a supposed sack of potatoes. John was touched that SJ even remembered it. Rather than answering, he bent down and picked up both girls, slinging one over each shoulder. They both giggled wildly. He turned to all of his friends.

“Guys. Where are Mia and SJ?”

“I don’t know,” Thea said. “Roy, have you seen the girls?”

“No,” said Roy, eyes wide and innocent.

“We must organize a search party and sweep the lawn in a grid formation,” said Nyssa. “Who knows what evils might have interrupted their play?”

“Good job playing along, baby,” Sara whispered to her girlfriend. Nyssa, to John’s astonishment, blushed a little bit. 

“I’ll call the National Guard!” said Tommy. Laurel grinned.

“Good luck getting Dad to give up his jurisdiction,” she said.

“That’s right, young man,” said Quentin. He got out his phone as if to make a call. “My honorary granddaughters missing? This is an SPD matter.”

“Oh Quentin, my hero, save them!” said Donna, leaning dramatically on Quentin’s arm. He kissed her forehead.

“We have to work together. I can’t find them on my own, especially with these two sacks of potatoes on my shoulders,” John said. He whipped around in circles, making the girls giggle. “Where could they be? It’s almost like I hear them, but I can’t see them!”

He ran around the lawn with the girls on his shoulders, pretending to look everywhere for them. From the corner of his eye, he saw Felicity filming him with her phone. For their amusement he asked everyone for their help finding “his girls.” He even asked the pony. She looked at him with one ear bent to the side and sleepy eyes. He told her to keep watch and then jogged back to the patio.

SJ and Mia giggled and shrieked the whole time, and he had the time of his life pretending not to hear them even when they wriggled in his arms and called out, “we’re right here!”

“John, you can’t find them on your own. You have to accept help. It’s the only way! Together we can find our girls,” Oliver said. His face was so serious John had to swallow a laugh.

“Okay, okay, let me just put down these sacks of potatoes,” he said. He deposited the girls onto a lounge chair, now so overcome with shrieking giggles they could hardly breathe.

“Oh, my God!” said John with false astonishment. “They were here the whole time!”

SJ hugged Mia. “Happy birthday, Mia! You’re my favorite sack of potatoes.”

Later on, after the children had gone to bed and William had left to go out with his friends, the adults lingered. It wasn’t often that Starling City stayed quiet long enough for all of them to celebrate any milestone for a whole day, and the unspoken agreement was that they were going to enjoy every minute of it.

Soft music played from speakers John couldn’t see (because of course the Queen Mansion featured a whole house speaker system cleverly hidden in potted plants or something else equally bougie). Roy had surprised Thea with ballroom dance lessons for their anniversary, and was now attempting to teach Sara and Nyssa, as well as Quentin and Donna, how to foxtrot. His attempts brought limited success, but from the looks of it they were all having fun.

John sat back and took in the scene around him. These people were his family, complicated and often ridiculous though they were. And on this soft summer evening they were all together, all alive, all happy. There was Oliver, with Felicity perched on his lap. Oliver’s wedding ring glinted in the low light as he stroked his hand over Felicity’s stomach. She was five months pregnant with Mia’s little brother, and only now beginning to show. There was Laurel, holding Tommy’s hand as she talked passionately about her latest case. There they all were, talking, dancing, loving the night and each others’ company.

It didn’t take much to imagine how differently the past years could have gone. How many of their little band of merry men and women they might have lost. But they hadn’t. They’d relied on each other, trusted each other—and instead of losing each other piece by piece, they’d all triumphed together over every enemy.

“You thinkin’ sentimental thoughts, Johnny?” Lyla asked. She nudged him gently with her shoulder. “I think you’ve had too much wine.”

He chuckled and put and arm around her shoulders. “No, baby. I’m just happy.”


End file.
